


how noble you are (how noble are you?)

by h_mellohi



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angry Wilbur Soot, Attempted Murder, Blackmail, Death Threats, Dream Team SMP Roleplay (Video Blogging RPF), Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Insane Wilbur Soot, Mental Breakdown, Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 02:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30065220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_mellohi/pseuds/h_mellohi
Summary: Ranboo can't quite shake the feeling that there's something wrong with Ghostbur. Something different. Something false.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 297





	how noble you are (how noble are you?)

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is [@HobblyWobbly's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HobblyWobbly/pseuds/HobblyWobbly) fault entirely bc the prompt they posted on twitter wormed into my brain and did not let go until i wrote this damn thing so. yeah. blame them and also go follow them/read their stuff :))

“So, Ranboo,” Ghostbur began as they exited the nether portal. There was a flicker of a frown on his face as he stepped into the snow and his ankles were covered, but then he took another step, and Ranboo watched him walk on thin air, just a few inches above the snow. It looked like someone had placed an invisible half-slab above the snow, but Ranboo knew for a fact that no such thing had been done. “How long have you been living with Technoblade?”

“Uh, a few months,” Ranboo murmured distractedly. He couldn’t stop looking at the way Ghostbur walked on thin air, like it was nothing. “Could you always do that?”

“Hm?” Ghostbur turned his head to Ranboo, and Ranboo realized that when Ghostbur stood like this, he was on equal height with Ranboo. Ranboo took a sharp breath, wholly unused to it. “Oh, I think so!” he said brightly. “I don’t like the snow. It makes me uncomfortable, like the rain!”

“Yeah, I get that,” Ranboo said ruefully, once again grateful for the waterproof boots and pants he wore as armor. “I just… I don’t remember you doing that in New L’manburg.” Ranboo chewed on the inside of his cheek as they traversed over the hill that hid their commune from view of the portal. 

“Well we’re both the memory boys, right? I remember that much.” Ghostbur stuck his arm in the crook of Ranboo’s, swinging it slightly with a wide smile. “Maybe you just don’t remember me doing it.” 

“...Yeah,” Ranboo reluctantly agreed aloud. “That was a stressful time, anyways. I… must have forgotten that.” Something bitter was stuck in his throat, but he feared if he coughed it up, all his inquisitive curiosities would follow.

“Yeah!” Ghostbur enthusiastically agreed. As they came up to the fence. Ghostbur stopped short and dropped his arm from Ranboo’s, tilting his head. “Oh, they finished the house Tommy and I were building! Does Tommy live there still?”

Ranboo shook his head quickly, walking through the fence opening. “I don’t think Tommy and Techno are on very good terms right now.” He looked toward the house, wondering if the piglin hybrid would see who he had with him and step outside. He didn’t, and Ranboo reluctantly resigned himself to the fact that he was probably asleep.

Another thought came to him, of Tommy aggressively insisting they needed to stop Techno from cashing in on his favor with Dream. Panic bubbled in Ranboo’s chest, the panic that came from the possibility of picking sides and letting down friends and screwing everything up. Ranboo gripped the fencepost, unable to tear his eyes away from Techno’s house and all the possible ways things could go terribly wrong.

“Oh,” Ghostbur replied, clearly not noticing Ranboo’s internal panic. “Are you on good terms with Techno? Do you live over there?”

“I mean, no, I don’t live there, but I… I think I’m on pretty good terms with Techno, yeah, I’d say so.” Even the reminder of Techno calling Ranboo his good friend wasn’t enough to chase away the anxiety that thrummed in his chest, like a drum that couldn’t stay on beat. “We’ve been talking about him training me, recently, so I think that’ll be pretty cool.”

“Well, he must really like you, then,” Ghostbur said slyly. “I mean, Techno doesn’t offer something like that to just anyone. I don’t think he even trained Tommy.”

“Huh,” Ranboo said in lieu of any real response. “That’s- that’s good, I think.”

“I’d say so. You seem pretty cool, Ranboo.”

“Thanks,” Ranboo said neutrally, hoping that the wariness in his smile wasn’t obvious. “We actually have this whole, uh, this whole running joke about me being the main character, and Techno being like, my sensei. It’s pretty funny, honestly.” 

“That’s so cool,” Ghostbur said breathlessly. “You’re like, a hero, then, huh? A whole main character, that’s a story archetype.”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know if I’ve done anything too heroic yet. I have… plans, but, nothing has really happened yet.”

“Well, I’m sure when the time comes, you’ll be a noble hero, you’ll save us all!” Ghostbur’s cheer faded as confusion entered his face. “From… whatever we’re doing. It’s Dream, right? He’s the bad guy?”

“Yeah,” Ranboo nodded firmly. “Yeah, it’s him we have to deal with.”

“Right, right. He’s a wrongun, then, as Tommy would say.” Ghostbur hummed, then, suddenly distracted, looked back at the two houses. “Right, so if you don’t- does Phil live there, then?” Ghostbur walked in front of Ranboo, eyes sparkling. Ranboo couldn’t tell if it was because he was hunched over or if Ghostbur had risen higher, but now Ghostbur was the one looking down on him, ever so slightly. “Is Phil here?”

“Uh- yeah,” Ranboo’s mouth was so dry. It hurt to swallow. “I don’t- I don’t know where he is right now, I’m sure we can go find him at some point.” Everything felt wrong. Why did it all feel so wrong?

“Oh, pog!” Ghostbur cheered. “What about in the meantime, then?”

“I guess… I could show you my house?” Ranboo forced himself to take a full breath, a nervous smile spreading across his face. He and Ghostbur walked across the snow to where Ranboo’s house stood in the back. “It used to be just a, you know, a wooden shack, but I upgraded it recently.”

Ghostbur hummed. “Your house looks different from theirs,” he remarked.

“Yeah, I guess, I didn’t really follow the same aesthetic. They, uh, they don’t seem to mind, though.” The iron door swung open, and the two of them walked inside.

“Well, that’s good, that’s good. Creative freedom is important.” Ghostbur stayed floating, still just slightly taller than Ranboo. 

“Mhm,” Ranboo agreed, twisting his shaking hands behind his back. His mind whirled as Ghostbur babbled, furiously working to connect every thread that felt off to his mind, not knowing whether it was his own paranoia or a genuine worry to be had. “Here, uh, I’ve got a pretty cool basement, down here.”

“Okay!” Ghostbur agreed easily, disappearing down the ladder. Ranboo followed close behind.

“Hey, Ghostbur,” Ranboo started. He kept his voice controlled, keeping it from shaking as much as he could. “So, you said that… Tubbo found you and brought you to us all, today?”

Ghostbur, who had previously been cooing over Ranbird, turned to Ranboo with a mildly surprised expression on his face. “Yep!” he said, cheerful as ever. “Tubbo told me that Tommy needed my help, and now I’m here!”

Ranboo’s heart thudded against his chest. “Oh, really?” he asked, making his voice sound as interested and as neutral as possible. “Where were you sleeping? We haven’t seen you for, you know, a long time.”

Ghostbur shrugged. “I don’t remember. I just remember waking up!” 

“And Tubbo talking to you.”

“Yep!” Ghostbur giggled, tilting his head. “Ranboo, didn’t we already talk about this?”

“We did,” Ranboo said slowly. “I just… bad memory,” he excused. “I wanted to make sure I was remembering right.”

Ghostbur smiled at him. Ranboo wondered if he was imagining that it looked a little sharper. “You’re acting very suspicious again. That’s what I said last time, isn’t it?”

Ranboo’s stomach churned. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I guess, I’m still, uh, inquisitive.”

The room lapsed into silence. Ghostbur said nothing else, only continued to stare at Ranboo with those same blank eyes. The longer Ranboo felt his eyes on him, the more the blankness felt less like a slate and more like a wall, hiding something deeper behind it.

“It’s just… it’s strange,” Ranboo admitted, swallowing tightly. “Because I don’t think Tubbo and I have been apart at all today. When, when exactly did you talk to him?”

“Oh, some time today,” Ghostbur dismissed with a wave of his hand, eyes blinking innocently. It looked fake. He walked closer to Ranboo, digging into his pockets. “Would you like some blue?”

Ranboo took a step back, his legs bumping into his stretch of chests. “No, you- we haven’t been apart at all today, and definitely not long enough for Tubbo to go and find you where- wherever you were sleeping.”

“I didn’t say that Tubbo found me when I was sleeping,” Ghostbur gently corrected, his smile twitching, looking like it was about to slide off his face.

“Right, you, you heard about it ‘through the grapevine’, through Tubbo,” Ranboo quoted with a raised hand. “But that doesn’t… that just doesn’t make sense.” 

“Please, have some blue.” Ghostbur held out his arm further, and Ranboo shook his head.

“No, Ghostbur. Blue is supposed to take sadness away, remember? And I’m not feeling sad right now, so I don’t need it,” Ranboo said, gently but firmly.

Ghostbur’s hand slowly lowered, face flickering with an unidentifiable emotion. 

“What’s going on, Ghostbur?” Ranboo asked genuinely. “You- you’re acting different, different from what I remember in New L’manburg, and you- Tubbo couldn’t have told you anything, because we were working on the house all day today, and-” Now that he had started, he felt he couldn’t stop, all the pieces slotting together just out of place. “And you said- didn’t you say you loved the rain earlier? Not to mention the- you offered us sugar at the start and- I still don’t get how you talked to Tubbo before finding us, I don’t think Tubbo had left mine or Tommy’s side once in- in hours! What happened to you, Ghostbur? What changed while- while you were asleep?” The strange and terrifying truth rose to Ranboo’s lips, and before he could think to stop himself, he blurted, “It’s like you’re- you’re just trying to be Ghostbur, but you’re not. You’re- I don’t know who you are.” Ranboo’s eyes were blown wide and his heart was racing, staring at Ghostbur’s empty face like it would fill in the answers.

And it did.

Ranboo watched as, in front of his very eyes, the innocent countenance of Ghostbur’s face melted away as easily as snow in a rainstorm. His eyes sharpened, the blank look deepening and turning his half-lidded brown eyes a dark, subtle red. A scornful laugh left his lungs, accompanied by a small, thin smile. “Of course you don’t know who I am.” Though the echo remained, the voice had changed, slipping into a lower register, a smooth voice coated in poisonous honey. “I don’t believe we’ve ever even met.”

Ranboo’s breath caught in his throat. “Wh- wait, you’re- holy crap.” Terror dropped his voice to a trembling whisper. “You’re not Ghostbur. You’re Wilbur.”

Wilbur’s eyes sparkled with deadly intrigue. “I knew there was a reason Techno liked you.”

“Wh- how long- why- what?” Ranboo tripped over his own words in a frantic attempt to ask a question the ghost in front of him would be willing to answer. “You’re alive?”

The man snorted, crossing his arms. “No, Ranboo. I’m still a ghost so far, I’m afraid.”

“So far.” Ranboo inhaled sharply. “So you… you plan on Dream bringing you back?”

Wilbur hummed, and the sound twisted into a low chuckle. “Ranboo, I don’t think you need to know my plans. I think I’ll keep them to myself, for now.”

“So- I don’t- why are you trying to imitate Ghostbur?”

“Oh, because they like Ghostbur,” Wilbur said viciously. The familiar yellow sweater and gray pallor of his face stood out in great contrast to the cruelty scrawled across his eyes and within his words. “They trust Ghostbur, they think he’s an idiot.”

“So- so what are you going to do now, then?” Ranboo challenged, sounding far braver than he felt. “I- I mean, I’ve figured it out, once they all know- what will you do then?” 

Wilbur considered him for a moment, a pitying look in his eyes that made Ranboo’s skill crawl. When he spoke, his voice reverberated, dark and chilling. “Ranboo, let’s be real here. You won’t be telling anyone about what you’ve learned today.” Wilbur took a step forward, and the softness in his grin couldn’t be further from the intent in his tone as he tapped the center of Ranboo’s forehead with one finger. “You’re going to keep it all right in here, and you’ll either forget it all on your own or you will just have to keep this secret until I decide what to do with you.”

Ranboo choked down a displeased hiss, tilting his head up to meet Wilbur’s piercing eyes. “Yeah?” he asked steadily, low voice firm with an undisguised threat. “What exactly is going to stop me?” He drew his sword, the enchanted netherite glimmering. “From what I know of you, you weren’t a fighter, Wilbur.”

“Oh, you’re certainly right about that,” Wilbur took a step back, relieving the pressure he had been digging into Ranboo’s forehead. His own diamond sword gleamed at his side, chipped with unrepaired use. “What, are you going to kill me, Ranboo?”

“If what Tommy implied about you coming back was true, I just might,” Ranboo growled, gripping the hilt of his sword.

“Do it then, Ranboo. Kill me.” Wilbur stepped in front of Ranboo’s blade, a teasing smile on his face, like there was a joke Ranboo wasn’t getting. “Kill me, stab me with a sword.”

For a moment, Ranboo stood frozen, indecision seizing his limbs in space. Then, with a twitch of his hand, he thrust the sword forward, impaling it in Wilbur’s gut.

Wilbur only laughed as a blue stain soaked into the brightly colored sweater. More blue liquid spilled from his lips and dripped on the cobblestone floor as his shoulders shook with mirth. The world tilted around Ranboo as the horror of the situation set in, and for a moment the yellow sweater in front of him flickered, replaced with a bloodied trenchcoat rippling in the wind despite the still air of the basement. The wild and dark laughter grew, filling Ranboo’s ears until he could do nothing but clamp his hands over his ears, distantly hearing his sword clatter against the blood-spattered ground. 

A strong hand gripped his wrist, ripping it from over his ear. Ranboo flinched, but Wilbur held his wrist tight, glaring down at him with a vicious grin. Ranboo flicked his eyes down, finding Wilbur’s sweater clean and unmarred. 

With his other hand, Wilbur held up a handful of color, eyes sparkling teasingly. “Want some blue?”

“Get- no, I don’t want- get away.” Ranboo wrenched his aching wrist from Wilbur’s grip, breaths coming in startled gasps. Wilbur only laughed at him mockingly, keeping an even pace with Ranboo as he backed up. “Okay,” Ranboo said. “So maybe I can’t kill you, but you can’t kill me, either. There’s still nothing stopping me, then.” He lifted his chin as Wilbur approached, fighting down the nausea in his gut. “There’s no way you keep getting away with acting like Ghostbur, not for long.”

“Oh, so noble,” Wilbur snarled, sarcasm thick and barbed. “You know, it’s funny, you’re reminding me a lot of Tommy right now. You even have the same shaky breath thing. Hm.” Wilbur’s smile couldn’t have been crueler. “Maybe you really are replacing him. No wonder he feels threatened.”

Ranboo wondered how Tommy had lasted for so long with this man’s slimy words worming underneath his skin. He suddenly felt he had a lot more understanding for a lot of what Tommy had been saying. Still, he clenched his jaw, trying not to rise to the bait. “Doesn’t matter. Once I tell him, once I tell everyone else, we’ll figure out how to get rid of you. You won’t be coming back and hurting more of us. Not anymore.”

“Ranboo, you’re adorable,” Wilbur said bluntly. “But you’re, well, a fucking idiot. You’re forgetting something. You do that often, don’t you?”

“What’re you talking about?” Ranboo asked slowly. 

Wilbur huffed a short laugh. “See this, this is funny. It was even your idea, Ranboo. You know, for me to go and meet Michael. Your son.” Amusement danced across his face, and his tone was light as his words struck home. “Your very fragile son.”

Ranboo froze, heart once again a jackhammer in his chest. “No,” he started. “No, Michael is off-limits, you can’t- you can’t hurt him.”

“I won’t, Ranboo, you don’t have to worry,” Wilbur crooned, voice sickly sweet. “No harm will come to Michael, as long as we keep this little secret between us, hm?” 

“So you- you’re threatening me with Michael. I could- I could hide him somewhere, though. I can keep you from getting to him.” Desperation made his voice wobble, and he knew his threats were weak the minute they reached his ears. Ranboo thought he might be sick. 

“You could,” Wilbur said, pondering. “But how many layers of walls and locked doors do you think it would take to really keep me out? You don’t think that if I can walk around without a floor, that some layers of obsidian would be enough to keep me from completing my end of a deal?” 

He could have been bluffing. He probably was. Was he?

“I can promise you, Ranboo,” Wilbur said gravely. “If you tell a single soul about any of our conversations today, I will make sure that your child doesn’t see another sunrise.” He smirked. “Every hero has to go through tragedy, right? Ranboo, what are you willing to sacrifice to do the noble thing?”

“Not this,” Ranboo begged before he could catch himself. “Not Michael.”

“Good.” Wilbur’s hand rose up, gently settling on Ranboo’s cheek and patting it twice. Ranboo should have flinched, he wanted to, but he was frozen again. “That makes you a good person, Ranboo.”

“Does it?” Ranboo whispered weakly.

Wilbur shrugged, retracting his hand. “Oh, I don’t know. I think it makes you a spineless coward, but you can pretend you’re a good person if it helps you go through with it.”

Ranboo didn’t want to admit how much it did help, and how heavily the truth of Wilbur’s words weighed on him.

Wilbur grinned, all sharp teeth and carefully constructed words so that Ranboo could not mistake his meaning. “So I think you’ll keep making the decision that’s best for you, and for Michael, your lovely little family, and I think you’ll keep this whole act of mine a secret. Am I right?” Ranboo nodded wordlessly, and the smile faded as Wilbur clicked his tongue in displeasure. “I need to hear you say it, Ranboo.”

“I won’t- I won’t tell anyone,” Ranboo reluctantly agreed, voice choked with panic. “And you’re going to go back to- to pretending to be Ghostbur?”

“Pretending?” Wilbur’s voice slipped into a higher whisper, a blank look falling over his eyes again. “What d’you mean? I am Ghostbur. Your friendly neighborhood ghost!”

“Right,” Ranboo exhaled, the terror he felt watching the seamless transition shaking every limb of his body. “You’re Ghostbur.”

Wilbur opened his mouth to say something else, but a voice upstairs sent both of their heads flinching upward.

“Hey, Ranboo?”

“Phil,” Ranboo muttered, looking back to Wilbur in shock. Wilbur’s face shuttered, and Ranboo flinched away before Wilbur could lunge forward and grab his wrist again. “I won’t,” he whispered desperately, slowly circling the ghost. “I swear. Not even to Phil.” His heart ached, remembering quiet conversations held with Phil as the older man opened up about his own failures, his unease around the ghost that had been a pale imitation of his son.

The two of them climbed the ladder, Ranboo in front with Wilbur far too close behind. Ranboo opened the door, hoping he didn’t sound as awful as he felt. “Hey, Phil.”

“Ranboo.” The gentle smile on Phil’s face faded as Ranboo felt hands on the back of his shoulder, the presence rising behind him. “Wait- what the fuck. Ghostbur?”

“Dadza!” Wilbur pushed past him, barreling right into Phil’s arms. Phil caught him in a stiff hug, staring at Ranboo over Wilbur’s shoulder with fractured eyes. Ranboo could only stare, forcing his face to stay as blank as possible, shrugging ever so slightly.

“Wil- Ghostbur?” Phil said, eyes wide, clearly stunned. “What- how-”

“Phil! It’s so good to see you,” Wilbur gushed, stepping back from Phil, clasping blue stained hands underneath his chin. Ranboo blinked, and the blue dripping from Wilbur’s lips was gone again. He held back a shudder. “I saw you finished me and Tommy’s house! It looks lovely, Phil.”

“Thanks, I- it’s actually-” Phil’s hushed, disbelieving tone choked and cut off, and he started again. “Ghostbur, how are you here?”

Wilbur shrugged with a slight shake of his head. “Well, I was taking a long nap, and when I woke up, Tubbo told me that Tommy needed me, so here I am!”

“So here you are,” Phil numbly agreed. “I- How’re you feeling?”

“I’m doing great! I’m-” Wilbur looked over Phil’s shoulder and gasped, and Ranboo gripped his door frame to hold back a flinch at how genuine it sounded. “Is that a fish pond? Underneath the bridge?”

“Yeah, I built it a little bit ago, d’you want to see?” When Ghostbur nodded, Phil chuckled, a sad smile on his face. “Alright, I’ll show you the house, too, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

The two of them turned to leave, Ghostbur leading Phil, but then Phil paused, and looked back. “Want to come with?” His brow furrowed as he took in whatever expression was on Ranboo’s face. “You alright, mate?”

Ranboo continued to stare right at Phil, if only to avoid the glowering expression hovering over his shoulder. “Yeah!” he said weakly. “Yeah, I’m okay, I just- you guys catch up, okay? I have, uh, some things to do.” Forcing cheer into his voice, he waved his arm in a jerking wave. “It was nice seeing you again, Ghostbur!” His voice was steady. It did not waver. He could not let it.

Ghostbur waved sunnily at him, nothing but innocence and bliss on his face. “You too, Mr. main character Ranboo!”

“Catch you later, mate,” Phil said evenly, and Ranboo knew then they were both pretending in that moment, both of them fractured messes desperately struggling not to fall apart, for wholly different reasons.

The door shut between them as Phil walked off with something far too alive to be the well known ghost, but something far too dead to be his son.

And Ranboo sunk to the floor with shaking hands, pressing them to his face to keep burning tears from leaving fresh scars. Self hatred curdled in his stomach, and he knew that Wilbur had been right. He couldn’t let Wilbur get to Michael. He couldn’t tell anyone what he knew. And that made him the spineless coward he had always been, always would be.

Ranboo’s pitiful laugh was halfway crossed with a sob. All he could hear was Wilbur’s dark, cackling laughter, filling his ears once more.

Main character. Hero. 

What a joke.

**Author's Note:**

> ranboo and wilbur my favorite underutilized duo   
> find me on twitter @sbimellohi !   
> comments and kudos appreciated!! thanks!


End file.
